Unknown Sins
A preview of the new novel (copyright Cassy Dunn):
Chapter 1
The pot crashed to the stone pavers. Dirt, rich and black and damp, and her favourite plant – a blue fruited white-currant as rare as genetically natural magenta eyes – splattered in all directions. The pot was ruined – an antique her parents had valued above all other trinkets – and the plant would have to take its chances with whoever came here next.
The grip around Tiera’s throat tightened – how could one hand reach around her neck like that? – she fought to breathe, tried to drag his fingers off her throat, dug her nails into his skin. It should have hurt him, caused a reaction. There should have been blood, his blood. Tiera gagged. Choked. Kicked back and up – get the groin; used all her weight and momentum – and threw her skull backwards at the same time. Crunch from the nose. If he didn’t have such a good grip on her, she would have fallen, but she didn’t and he did. In between desperate wheezes for oxygen, Tiera grabbed the heavy iron pot stand and brought it down on his head with all the force she had left.
He collapsed on top of the other body. Shivers rattled his teeth, then stopped. Little dribbles, dark red, oozed down his nose, across his lips, dripped onto the pavers. That wouldn’t come out. Not blood. Were they dead? She stepped forward, reached into the top pockets of each set of coveralls – more attempts to hide who they were; the coveralls hid the tattoos that would have identified them.
A siren sang in the distance. Too late.
Tiera had to get out of there. The two bodies on the floor, also covered in potting mix and tiny fruits, would create problems beyond reckoning. The auto-call would have kicked in as soon as the alarm did the first check. It was a DNA triggered alarm – these two weren’t the right DNA, so the alarm sent an IM directly to the security company and the most appropriate and closest law officials. She could hear the first intonation of time-line for arrival on the security box speaker in the small entranceway.
If she stayed to try to explain it; if they found the papers, the articles these two had on them, which she’d now stolen, she’d be in serious trouble – worse than just a couple of dead . . . things. She couldn’t call them humans – the hands were gripply, with little sucker-like cups, and so big; the skin on their faces was constantly moving, changing colour, even now when they were probably dead – it looked similar to what she had seen of a chameleon, but they’d been extinct for decades, probably centuries. These two looked outwardly human, so – a new tinny voice crackled into the air. From his pocket. Tiera leaned down and flipped the pocket inside out. A tiny device, a countdown dial, into seconds – Fequat!
A second voice intoned from the other body. ‘At the mark, countdown will commence: beep. 29, 28, 27.’ Perfectly in sync with the previous device, but three counts behind.
A self-destruct.
***
That was your sneak peek – it may not be exactly the same after the zillion rounds of editing, but I’m sure you get the picture!! Due out before end June 2016.
